Being Yourself: Internal Inferno
by rickeyranger
Summary: Proto Widebody, the bumbling 747, pairs up with Blade Ranger, but they get caught in an unlikely adventure: the sinister replacement of every 747. The tragic past must be reckoned with, in order to escape. From Blade's nightmares to Skipper's haunted history, Proto learns that he too, must come to terms with his past. Violence, sadness, and finally, acceptance: Internal Inferno.
1. Chapter 1: Meet Proto!

Proto Widebody. _My last name means nothing, I am a small plane_. Widebody. _Meant for transferring passengers across the ocean, meant for lugging cargo from country to country_. Don't sweat it; the heritage can be broken. Not that jet engines are different from the propellers.

Who am I kidding? I can fit over 500 cars, fly over the ocean with no sweat, and I am one of the largest airplanes ever created. Not to mention my classy, unforgettable design; the back hump which rises above the rest of the body, fitted with luxurious, leather seats… something that only cars with big wallets can afford. Or boats. Or small airplanes; small airplanes are kind of like a buzzing in my brain; blah, blah, let's watch the Wings Around the Globe, blah… blah!

It wasn't all that bad, I have to admit, well, at least not until some hotshot racer rode aboard and made a remark about my flying style. Good thing that racer was a plane; I dumped him out of first class so fast that he barely hit the water before he could take off. Devilish of me, but quite fun.

Finally, I got the messages for where to land at the airport. The cars unloaded, luggage was brought out and I promptly fell asleep while waiting for everyone to get off. I was woken up by a helicopter landing near me and when I jolted, several cars spilled out from the side.

"Sorry," I said. One car gave me a dirty look before taking off.

"Proto?"

"What do you want?" I snapped, turning around before sucking my lips in. "Oh, uh, what do you need, Captain?"

"Watch it, Proto. This is the third flight you've spilled cars out on. Thank the sky they weren't shaken out when you were flying." Captain rolled away. "You need to work on being a jumbo jet. It's being a little more than difficult to keep track of you. Next mistake you make, and you're a jobless jumbo. Understand?"

"Sure," I replied. When the last car left, I sighed. It was good to be back in America, to be back in familiar skies. Well, skies aren't always familiar. Clouds shift and alter and the atmosphere could be thicker and hotter or colder and thinner and there really isn't anything familiar about the skies but in the land, have you realized that? _Deep breath_. Where was I? Doesn't matter.

"Need refueling?" a forklift asked, hooking a truck up to guide me.

The truck spoke before I could. "Of course. These jets eat up fuel like no tomorrow."

"I guess that's why BoeWing announced their new Piston Peak Project. They're coming up with new types of planes." The forklift pointed in the direction of the fueling trucks. "Yup."

"What Piston Peak Project?" I asked. "What is BoeWing doing?"

"Never mind. Jumbos don't need to know just yet," the truck replied. "Haven't you meant the new 787 over there? She's a fantastic flyer. That liner flies like a dream. She's one of the first of BoeWing's Piston Peak Project."

"Hahaha," I replied.

When I was hooked up to the fuel, an airplane came and started talking to me. It was Captain. My mind kept wandering, not about the Dreamliner, but because, well, it just wanders.

"So you think you can do this trip to Japan? A big-name car is riding on board; he's a racer. Just got back from an appointment at a famous hospital in Rowchester, that town filled with lakes."

"Okay."

"You'll be leaving tomorrow, so rest up and be ready to go. It's a morning flight. Remember, any mistakes and you're no longer a jumbo jet in this service."

"Okay."

"Are you paying attention, Proto?"

"Okay."

"Nevermind, Proto. Meet with me in my office hangar."

"When?"

"In an hour."

After being refueled, I felt like I needed a drink so I got a can of oil. It was lifted up on a step ladder where I could reach it, and after I requested a swirly straw the car simply gave me a funky look before driving away. There were a bunch of cars nearby, driving to one of the bigger hangars. There was a huge sign about firefighting heroes so I went over. When I entered, a few cars backed away to give me room. Unfortunately, while the hangar can fit a few 727s, it could barely fit one 747 so I stayed to the back. There were local firetrucks and even a few of the firefighters from Piston Peak. For some reason I thought that I should feel angry but didn't remember why.

Some of the firefighters were speaking. There were aircraft but most of them were firetrucks. Can you think of a word that starts with an f and ends in uck? Firetruck! Firetruck! Bet you couldn't get that, right? The word I think about is always fluff! Bet you thought fluff, right?

Recognizing one of the firefighters, I began to scream because I was so excited! It as a red helicopter with black spinny blade things and bluey blue eyes and no smile whatsoever. "Blade Ranger! Blade Ranger! Blade Ranger!"

The helicopter looked up and saw me. He looked unimpressed. Grumpy Cat Tractor is unimpressed. Finally, he said something but had to shout louder because I couldn't hear him. No one could hear him. Speaking through the microphone, he yelled,

"Turn off your engine, jumbo jet!"


	2. Chapter 2: I'm flying! With Blade!

The helicopter was talking to me. To me. To me! The jumbo jet! However, the cars around me didn't seem to be as thrilled. In fact, they seemed to be backing away. One forklift was flying away. No, he was being blown away.

"Are you talking to me?" I called out. Who had their engines turned on so loudly? They were keeping me from hearing Blade Ranger.

"Of course I am," Blade replied. He was almost screaming. "Your jets are blowing everyone away."

Startled, I realized that my engines _were _on, and I jumped just happening to go through the ceiling of the hangar. The roof caused a bit of soreness in my back so when I came back down hard upon my wheels, I backed up, just passing over a smaller plane.

"Whoa, watch where you're going, you might hurt someplane!" the plane said, and the tone was actually friendly. However, the next voice wasn't.

"Proto Widebody, you are FIRED." Captain had flown over, and he was furious.

"What?" I cried.

"You've destroyed the hangar, and nearly smooshed up Dusty Crophopper."

"It's nothing, really," Dusty replied, coming out from under my nose.

"I'm so sorry, Dusty. I'm so sorry, so sorry!"

"It doesn't matter," Captain said, booting Dusty away. "Proto, you've been warned enough. I want you out of this airport by tomorrow, and I don't want to hear about you approaching on any of my radars! I don't want to see you fly again, I don't want you to ever think about setting wheel near my airports or airplanes or anything! You're through here, Proto! I've held my patience long enough, and you are no longer a part of these airlines!"

My eyes were watering, my face was getting hot; I blurted out a loud cry of despair and wheeled back before turning around and going straight to the hangar that was reserved for me.

"Wait!" Dusty said, but I had already gone into the hangar and had gone into hiding, placing a blanket over my face.

If I couldn't see the plane, then no-plane could see me. Simple logic.

"Proto?" the sounds of a helicopter's blades dying down made me go still.

"Ain't no-plane here," I said.

"Of course you are."

The radio I had in my room went off. Before I could say anything, Blade actually answered the call. I heard my mom.

"Proto? Proto?"

"He's not in here. I'm a friend."

Eeeeeee who just called me a friend who did oh my it was Blade Ranger oh my eeeeee.

"Well… I'm sure he needs a good friend about now. If you're in his bunker, I'm pretty sure you heard the news. Uh, we're taking up the payment for the costs of the damage. Tell him his mommy loves him." I heard a click and knew that my mother hung up the phone.

"Proto, you don't need to worry. Proto?"

I flipped off the blanket from my face and said, "Oh, hi! I didn't see you! I just came in and everything."

"Proto, would you like to come with me to Propwash Junction?" Dusty had also come into the hangar and he picked up the blanket before setting it aside.

"I've never been to Australia before," I replied.

"It's not in Australia, Proto," Dusty said. "You'd meet my friends. Dottie and Chug would love you. I'm sure Skipper would warm up to you, too."

"Or you could come with me," Blade Ranger suggested. "I'm… taking a break from firefighting. I came to this airport so I could just say goodbye to Dusty."

"You wouldn't want a plane like me," I replied. "I'm too big."

"It takes a tough plane to do what he can't. I'm flying out at sunrise, you can join me."

Dusty nudged Blade Ranger. "I think we should let Proto sleep. He's had a rough day."

Both aircraft left my hangar and went off. They flew to wherever they were staying. I watched them until I could no longer see either, or hear the distinctive rotor blades. However, I couldn't sleep. My back ached and I was sad, looking into the corner of the hangar. There was a little wing-bracelet and I slipped a wing through it. I didn't look at the words at it and then just began to let fat tears roll down and hit the ground. Tears the size of forklifts.

I had lost my only job. How could I have been so dumb?

Somehow, I must have fallen asleep because I woke up to the sunrise. There was a helicopter taking off, and I thought, "Now that's a helicopter I can look up to. Literally. He's in the sky."

"WAIT FOR ME, BLADE."

I interrupted several morning flights as I took from the runway. Jumbos need a lot of room to fly so I took off and hit my maximum speed. As a matter of fact, I nearly blew right past Blade. He was caught up in the breeze caused by my wings.

"Hold there, Proto. You're…."

"Blade Ranger! I'm coming with you!"

"Do you have the grit?"

"What does that mean, Blade?"

"Are you tough…."

"I'm a plane! Of course I am! Where are we going?"

"I… I don't know. Be careful, Proto, you're blowing me away."

"You blow me away! You're fantastic!"

"I'm just a firefighter." The helicopter stopped, cringing slightly.

"Huh?"

"We're at too high of an altitude. Let's lower."

"It's only 5,000 feet."

"How about 4,500?" suggested Blade.

"How about at 4,000?" I asked.

By that time, Blade was already lowering himself in altitude, so I followed, keeping a safe distance so he wouldn't be overcome by my jet engines.

Things were looking up, and up! Even though I was declining in altitude.


	3. Chapter 3: BLEEEAAAAGH

"Not too bad," Blade commented, but he pushed the can of oil away.

We were in a small hangar, having landed for the night. There were a lot of smaller planes; they were just staring at me while I asked for an extra swirly straw to drink my oil through. One of them snickered and whispered something to the plane next to it.

The planes laughed and one of them rolled up to me. "Hey, chubby, you might want to lose some weight. You can start by not using that swirly straw." He knocked over the cup of oil.

"Hey," I said. "What's the big deal?"

"Out of commission, that's what. Didn't you hear? The Piston Peak Project by BoeWing is all about replacing older jets. You're an old model, ya know?"

"Nope. I'm not an old model. In fact, I still fly and carry cars around. Well, I did until I was fired."

"I can see why. You're a jumbo."

Blade interrupted. "Leave Proto alone."

"Do I have to listen to you? You're an old helicopter."

"Doesn't mean I can't defend a friend."

"Who do you think you are?" smirked the smaller of the two airplanes. He rammed into Blade.

Blade stood there, not bothering to move. "A firefighter."

"Let's go, Red Zip." The larger plane left the hangar, his friend following. Before Red Zip left, he turned around and spat at me. A huge wad of spit landed at my front wheels.

"Jerks," I yelled, and I could hear one of them laugh really loudly.

"Leave them be," Blade said. "They aren't worth our time. Come on, Proto. Let's turn in for the night." He left the hangar, but I stayed behind.

"I'll be out in a moment, Blade." I finished my drink and let out a deep breath. Something caught my eye, however, so I left the hangar. Whatever I saw was shiny, so I approached it and when I got close, I nudged it with my nose. It was a piece of metal, cold and glittery. Picking it up with my mouth, I immediately spun around to go to the hotel hangar, but I had forgotten completely where it was.

"Over here, Proto," Blade called. He had opened the door to the hangar and was motioning to me. "You have this hangar. I rented the one to the right. See you in the morning." He went into the hangar he had rented for himself.

When I got myself into the hangar (Being a Widebody doesn't only mean my heritage, it hints at who I am and what I am like. Shucks.) it was a dark, dusty building. I felt like it hadn't been used for quite a while. It was big enough to hold me, so I assumed that it was meant for the occasional 747 who needed a place to rest while on vacation. 747s don't get vacations, though. If you ever meet a 747 that claims he is on vacation, don't ask him for how long. Jumbos don't have vacation time; when they have enough time to travel on their own, it means that they are no longer employed.

By the way, I'm on "vacation". If you know what I mean.

It was a little lonely being in a hangar all lonesome and stuff. Back at the airports where I would stay for the night, the hangars I was in were always empty of other planes. Most of the time. Once, I shared a hangar with another jet, but we didn't see nose-to-nose. He was a BoeWing 727. Big jerk. His compressors smelled like elderberries.

As I slept, I wasn't given much of a choice for if I wanted to dream or not. Of course I had a dream. Every-plane dreams.

So far away, so tired, and just plain plane. No go for the jumbo. Piston Peak Project? Replace every jumbo there is? Where would we go? No go for the jumbo! No go! Where I go? Where jumbo me go? No go! Nowhere to travel, no place to see… the replacement of every jumbo still includes me. Several dancing forklifts, a car with no bumper and a helicopter whose tail rotor is haywire… spinning, spinning, body catching up to the blades spinning, spinning… big bug, nowhere to go, nowhere to go, especially so for me, the jumbo.

Eyes piercing the dark, making me blink. I just can't seem to subtly think. Snap out of it, Proto, we've places to go. Places for even a jumbo to go. Blade Ranger, Blade Ranger, no helicopter stranger. What is going on? Where can I go? Nowhere, because I'm Proto, the jumbo.

"BLEEEAAAAAGH." I woke myself up with that scream. My body seemed to be frozen, but my mouth moved all on its own accord, just shrieking. "BLEEEAAAAGH."

Blade Ranger came out from the hangar he had, seeming a little disoriented. He blinked several times before turning to face me, yawning slightly.

"Snap out of it, Proto. It was only a dream." Blade started to head for the runway, before turning back to face me. He was still rolling, albeit backwards. "Get ready to fly. There's a big stretch of sky before us, and I don't intend to stop."

"Okay. I wanna fly lower than 5,000 feet."

"You can fly that low. I am going slightly over 5,500 feet." Blade lifted from the ground. "I'm going to start. You can catch up. Radio me if you fall behind."

"Radio?"

"You're an airplane. You have a radio." Blade rolled his eyes before he took off. The air swirled around him, eventually hitting me in the face. I opened my mouth to catch the swirlies.

When Blade was a good distance away, I began to follow. The runway was a little short, meant for smaller planes, so I hit some grass before I lifted off of the ground. Starting up into the air was slow, and I stumbled a bit, landing hard on my wheels. Wincing in pain, I continued to try and make it off of the ground and once I was finally in the air, I began my slow ascent to around 5,000 feet, which wasn't too much of a stretch. I was used to flying easily over 30,000 feet, but then I wouldn't be able to see Blade and I like seeing people I recognize when I fly, so I can follow them.


	4. Chapter 4: Blade's Firefighting Song

"So why aren't you firefighting?" I ventured to ask.

Blade paused, hovering for a little bit. "It's hard to explain."

"Explain anyways?"

"You were bound to ask. I love saving lives, going in through the danger and coming out of the smoke, covered in soot and gasping for air. However, there is… always a point during the career of a fireman that he has to look back and reflect. I'm no spring Cadillac, that's for sure."

"You are old," I commented.

The helicopter rolled his eyes and shook off my comment as though it annoyed him. He didn't answer, however, leaving me to just listen to the sound of his rotor blades.

"Yeah. I'm not young." Blade was still hovering. "Actually, I turned… old a few years back."

"Are you retired?"

This seemed to bother Blade. "Thinking about it, actually."

Not hearing what Blade said, I flew on ahead. "It must be fun to be a firefighter. What do you as a firefighter?"

"I, uh, fight fires."

"NO WAY. That must be intense. Does it get hot?"

"Sure. Let's go with that."

"Do you love what you do?"

Blade had caught up with me by that time. "Yes, but it does get hard. It's tough."

"I bet you can't do this!" I flew belly-up for maybe five seconds, feeling my cockpit pulse with the pressure. When I rolled back over, Blade was watching me with his silent stare. He wasn't really smiling, and for a moment, he seemed to need to take a few deep breaths.

Trying to break the silence, I turned on some music. Not being a big fan of music with words that make my head spin, a soft piano song began with some guitar. I like guitar, but just so you remember: enjoy the sound of a guitar, not the taste. Splinters on the tongue hurt.

Slight and sweet, the music drifted a little. From a cloud, Blade emerged with the cloud going in all directions like cotton candy. His eyes were closed and he breathed deep.

_When you fight fire after fire_

_With no choice but to fly higher_

_Your rotor just wants to stop._

_The hydraulic fluid in my veins_

_Is tired of all the strains._

_Paint covers old dings and burns_

_But not what the heart really yearns._

_Saving life after life in an endless firefight_

_Takes its toll on this old chopper._

_This journey must eventually end_

_And I have decided to finally land._

_The skies are endless, the clouds light and white_

_But I only know the smoke of fire's light._

_Stopping the flames is getting harder_

_And I certainly don't want to die a martyr._

_No-plane can fly without landing eventually._

_Their wings and engines run dry, you see._

_But who wants to admit that they are on in years?_

_Growing old is a pain that sears._

_This journey must eventually end_

_And I have decided to finally land._

I saw a tear roll down his nose. He was crying for some reason.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

Blade Ranger didn't look at me, instead he was talking about landing or something like that.

"You want to land?"

Finally, he looked up with a bit of a start. "Huh? Oh… no. Keep flying."

"Okay."

"Proto," Blade asked. "what do you think about your job?"

"I'm on vacation, so I don't have to think about it."

"If by vacation you mean fired…."

I interrupted. "VACATION."

We both continued to fly. Blade was strangely silent, but I was jabbering on about a lot of stuff. Stuff that I couldn't tell I was talking about. Stuff. Jumbo jet stuff, not helicopter stuff.

"I can't fight fires anymore," Blade said.

That stopped me dead. So dead that I dropped in altitude and finally got going again at around 3,000 feet. Blade seemed a little concerned and had decreased his altitude as well.

"You no longer fight fires?" I didn't believe what he was saying.

"No one can fly forever, Proto." Blade seemed to be getting a little weird, his voice was a little cracky and chokey. "Not even me."

"What happened?"

"I got old." Blade zipped ahead. He didn't answer.

Which was when he flew into that thick thing of clouds.

When his tail rotor seized up.

When he began to spin out of control and his body went the opposite way of his main rotor blades, trying to match up with the same speed.

When everything that can go wrong with a helicopter in midflight seemed to go wrong.

And then down, down, down he went.

"Blade!" shouting in desperation, I went backwards. "Come back up! Don't go down!"

Too late. He already was out of my eyesight. Earshot, no.

_This journey must eventually end_

_And I have decided to finally land._

Screaming as I barreled downwards, my mind was racing faster than… uh… than a car that is not going as fast as my mind.

_Doesn't mean you have to die_

_Because I will help you fly_.


	5. Chapter 5: Lopsided Lake

I've never really carried anything on my back. It was a bit of a surprise when Blade slammed down, surely making a huge helicopter dent in the metal. Didn't matter.

"Ugh," he remarked.

"We're flying, Blade! I'm flying!"

"Good for you, kid," he responded.

"Should I land?"

"My… my skids wouldn't mind the feeling of the ground about now."

I continued to fly for a bit. Blade didn't slide around on my back like I thought he would; the sizeable dent he had made stung a little, but it prevented him from really moving. That way he couldn't get away from me. I liked that.

"You're retiring from whatever you do as a firefighter," I said.

Blade moved a little, shifting his weight to the right. "I wasn't made to be a firefighting helicopter. I was manufactured more for show, city flying and tricks. Wasn't until later that I got myself upgraded, maybe thirty-odd years ago. Upgrades can embellish, but they don't replace how you were constructed."

"How are baby planes and cars constructed?"

The helicopter let out a loud laugh. "I don't have to answer that."

"My mom said that baby planes are made when a mommy plane loves a daddy plane very much and then they like to…."

"Don't tell me; it sounds like the words 'fire truck'."

"Fluff! Precisely! Then the magical crane reaches to the baby cloud and picks up a baby plane before moving it over to the mommy and daddy, who are waiting in their hangar, and drops it off. Sometimes it lands on the mommy, and it hurts. That's how baby planes are made."

"Sure. Let's go with that."

"I knew I was right."

Hitting some turbulence, I span a bit and finally regained some sense. Up ahead were some angry, grey clouds. They were glaring at us, lightning bolts shooting here and there. Not much can scare a jumbo, but these clouds certainly made me leak oil. Leaked oil right into the air. Yup.

"I don't like the look of those storm clouds," Blade commented. "You might want to land."

"Where can I land?"

"Looks like there is a lake just due east of here, with some space for landing."

I looked over, but quickly changed directions when Blade told me I was looking to the west. Yes, just to the east, was a lake. I could see it because I wasn't flying too highly. Something interrupted my music, with another airplane trying to communicate.

"This is flight 254, do you hear me?" the voice was filled with static, breaking off.

"Can't say that I do," was my reply.

"I'm heading straight towards you. Can you veer off?"

"Why don't you veer off?"

"Look, we're on a crash course… literally. If you don't move, I'll have to report you."

"Wait, what do you want me to do?"

"Veer, okay?"

"What does veer mean?"

The voice became frustrated. "Forget it. I'll go under."

"No. I want to go under." I decreased in altitude. Out of nowhere, a beautiful 787 came flying and we almost crashed right into each other. She steered off, and I lost sight of her.

Another transmission came in. "Dumb jumbo."

Before I could reply, my radio just shut down. I turned to the east and headed for the clearing, which was becoming less visible. It was raining.

"Can you land, Proto?" Blade was adjusting himself.

"Going to." I started my landing a little off, however, and fishtailed a bit on the dirt. The ground looked like a small runway, not meant for big planes. My back wheels stalled and went out of control; panic seemed to seize me and strangle me. I felt Blade go flying off of my back; he went straight into the trees where he promptly went thud and landed on his side.

"I can't stop, Blade! Help!"

"Slam… slam your brakes!"

Smoke seemed to pour out from underneath my wheels. Before I knew it, I went crashing into the lake. Water splashed everywhere; a tidal wave knocked down several trees. Pebbles from the lake bottom flew into my eyes and when I could finally see again, I saw the waves coming back and I opened my mouth to scream but instead my throat met gallons of water. Merging on the surface of the lake with only my nose sticking out, I gasped, "Blade! Blade! Are you there?"

"Covered in mud," Blade replied. "Today has been one turbulent day. First I nearly crash and now I nearly drown."

I was going to respond, but I sank beneath the water. When I rose to the surface, I felt a hook land into my mouth and I bit down. The metal went spinning into the roof of my mouth and it hurt, but I could see Blade hovering and trying to pull me out.

My engines wouldn't start, so I panicked. The water went in and sent pain coursing through my wings. Blade continued to pull, and then when he saw that I was trying to start my engines, he began to just hover.

"Don't turn on your engines, Proto. Try to get forward and roll onto the ground; you'll ruin your wings trying to start your engines. Jets use air to move, not water."

"But I'm sinking," I cried. "I'm going to drown."

"No you aren't. Breathe deep and use your own strength to boost yourself forward. Don't reply on your mechanics; try your hardest."

"I can't keep afloat." I was crying and scared. Gasping brought only more water into my throat and I threw it up. "I don't wanna stop working." Again, I tried to turn my engine on but it shorted from all of the water.

"Keep still!" yelled Blade, and he backed up. "Keep still if you're going to run your engine."

"What do you know about this? You're a firefighter; you only fight fires."

Blade then stopped pulling entirely. "Proto, you have to trust me. If you were to perish, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself. Years back, I lost one of my best friends when he crashed. Where I live… there is this thing called "The Wall". It has jets who have crashed while trying to fight fires."

Well, I certainly wasn't listening and went under again, and this time it took more strength to rise; I was getting heavier.

"I don't want to see another face on that wall, Proto. Now listen to me: stop your engines and use your own power to push forward. You're a jumbo jet; you're strong, meant for power."

"Power with engines! Not on my own!"

"Stop it! If you don't get to the shore quickly, your body will fill with water and you will _sink_."

"W…what do I do, then?"

"Push yourself. Go. Now!" Blade went in reverse and I could feel the hook dig deep into where my top teeth met the roof of my mouth. "That's right, Proto. Keep trying."

Cold hit my body and my wheels got stuck in a slurry of sand. I realized that my head was above the water, and I continued to force myself up onto the shore.

"You're on land," Blade announced. He had landed and was trying to retract his hook.

"I'm alive?"

"Quite. Waterlogged, but alive. Open your doors and let the water out."

Another lake came out of my body and returned to its friend. I was shaking, however, from the cold of being wet and the fact that I almost stopped working.

"Blade?"

The helicopter was resting up against a tree. He was breathing heavily and looked at me. "What is it, Proto?"

"You're cool. I bet you could save any-plane."

"Proto… I'm tired, and you must be cold. I'll get a fire going."

Was it just me, or did it sound like Blade was crying? Weird.


	6. Chapter 6: Scatterbrain

It took some time and effort to get the fire going. The fire seemed to make a sugary glaze over the metallic sheens of paint. When my initial request for a marshmallow was turned down, I sat back on my wheels and just let the fire's warmth dry me off. I had already gone pretty cold from being coated with water.

"Proto?"

"What?"

"Good work today."

"I know." Peering into the fire, I could see the flames dancing and everything. Image. Flash. Fire that burns. No such thing as cold fire. Cold as death fire? Lifeless metal, nonworking engine? No. I am living. Planes that die aren't living. Nope. Cold. Broken engine, no longer running. Big strong plane, humming voice… what is going on? The helicopter's face melting away and plane face forms. Confusing for me.

_Hush little airplane_

_Don't you cry._

_Everyone learns how to fly._

_Hush little airplane_

_Don't you fret_

_You'll be a big, strong jumbo jet_.

So strange. Other songs. Swirlies that you catch on the tongue. Tasty air. Don't make me go away. Who will be a jumbo jet? I don't know.

Icy blue eyes looked through the fire, ice in the flames and dancing all the same. "Are you okay?" No rotor motor spinning right now.

"Mmmmarshmallow."

Blade nudged the embers of the fire. It was dying away, slowly, and I couldn't focus on those dancing sparks.

"Are you gonna put it out?"

He laughed a quick, almost dry laugh. "Of course. That's what I do."

"Were you crying earlier?"

Blade looked up sharply. "No."

"I saw tears. You were crying, weren't you?"

"Remembering."

"Oh. Hey, you wanna piece of metal?"

"What?"

"I picked up a piece of metal." Flipping open a side door, I slid the piece of metal I had found a day earlier out and it landed on the ground with dust flying. "Want it?"

"No. Listen, Proto, have you ever lost someone close to you?"

"How can I lose someone who is right by me?"

"Forget about it." Blade glanced at the metal. "It's getting late."

"Yeah. I'm gonna go to sleep." With a huge yawn big enough to swallow up a small Cessna, I felt myself going into that thing that I like to call "sleep".

That storm that I saw earlier? It came back. The rain pelted down on me and fell into my eyes. Promptly, I got mad and wheeled around though there wasn't much room for me to wheel around in because I'm a jumbo jet and the word "jumbo" happens to mean big and the word wumbo happens to be a major at a nautical school.

For some reason, Blade was looking out over the lake and didn't seem to notice the rain. He was covered in small dents and mud from the accident earlier but it looked like his rotors still worked; Blade hovered above the ground slightly even though it was raining.

"What are you doing, Blade?"

"Waiting out the storm."

Lightning came crashing down and thunder, well, it thundered down. The thunder shook everything and Blade landed on the ground, turning around and facing me.

"Do you mind if I take shelter in your hull?"

"In my what?"

"Can you pop open your head opening so I can get out of the rain?"

"My mouth?"

"No."

"Where this funky thing lets my head go up one a hinge?"

"Yes. And be fast. The storm is getting worse." Blade was shuffling slightly, being pelted with rain. He was squinting his eyes as the wind whipped at his face.

I could barely see him, but I did open up the hinge. As a jumbo jet, I could carry cargo in my hold and large amounts of it; my nose lifted at an angle so that even a helicopter or a small jet could get in. However, on the inside, I was still outfitted for passengers but the seats were knocked over and ruined from when I drove into the lake and the piece of metal I had been hauling.

"Wait!" Shouting, I moved a bit.

Blade lost his balance but corrected himself as he leaned against a few smashed seats. "What?"

"My metal piece. It's still out in the rain."

"Forget about it, Proto. It's raining too much. You can get it in the morning when the storm clears."

When Blade was inside of my hull, I lowered my nose back into place and sat to wait out the storm. I tried to fall asleep, but the thunder kept waking me up and I was scared of the lightning. A jumbo, so scared, a little jet who huddled under the wings of another jumbo. Lightning lights up the sky and there is a dark shape. Thunder shakes it, the dark clouds of rain wash it away.

A little plane spins, faster than ever. Scrapyard. In a scrapyard.

Junked. Jumbo. No jet.

Was it rain? Was it a tear? Streaking down my nose, the rain looked like I was crying. Watching the rain run down and I looked up to see another pair of eyes staring at me. Green eyes filled with interest and a voice that was worn away by the years.

"You look confused." The mysterious plane backed up and smiled. The mouth was filled with rotten teeth. "Look at that hump on your back, those four giant engines on your wings! Beautiful jumbo specimen, if a bit damaged."

My vision was a little cloudy and my cockpit felt like there was a battle tank sitting inside of it. The other plane was still looking me over before it spoke again.

"Would you like something to eat?"

"Uh… yeah, that sounds good."

"Then how about a wing sandwich?"

"Huh?"

THUD.


	7. Chapter 7: The Hangar

Oof. My head hurt.

"Awake now, I see."

"Hello!" I greeted the plane. "Can I get that food you offered me?"

Something slammed down on my head again. It was the plane's wing. "Here. Another wing sandwich." The mouth smiled again.

"Oh, I get the joke," I replied. "That wasn't very polite."

"Of course it's not polite. Well, not to you."

My wheels were fidgety. At least the spots where my wheels should be. My wheels were missing and the ground hurt me as I tried to move.

"If you keep trying to move," warned the mysterious airplane. "you might collapse and break your legs."

I stopped trying to move. In fact, I went completely still.

Something hit me in the left wing. It hurt, the pain ringing and stinging and everythinging. I was afraid to know what had happened, but the other plane wouldn't make me miss out.

"We're taking out one of your engines, in case you try some funny business."

"Ouch! Ouch!"

"You'll lose more than just those engines if you keep whining."

"YEEEEOOOOOOWH."

"Here goes your wing…"

"I was bellowing," I replied, before my wing could come off.

"Okay. You won that one."

A truck came and hooked itself up to my nose, leading me to somewhere else. My eyes had by that time adjusted to the light and I could see that I was at some airport. Or at least something big and spacious. The sky was a ceiling! Rocks were hanging low and I bumped my head on one.

"You'll be living in here for now," the truck said, unhooking itself. It drove backwards and slammed a gate shut so I couldn't leave. Then it left me in this hangar.

"Where am I?"

There was another jumbo jet in the hangar. She was only identifiable by her upper deck hump. The wings had been torn off from her side.

"Hangman's Hangar," she said. "Welcome to… to BoeWing's Piston Peak Project."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm not okay. My name is Flaps. I overheard them talking about you; you're Proto."

Blade began to stir. He grunted and then went quiet for a few minutes. Flaps looked at me strangely as the noise of a rotor came from inside of me.

"Where are we, Proto?" Blade asked. He turned off his rotor.

"I don't know."

"Who is inside of you?" Flaps inquired. "You must hide him away. Don't let anyone know he is there. I was carrying a passenger and when they discovered him, they took him far away. He went to the simulator faster than the speed of sound."

"Why are we here?" I was growing concerned. Not to mention Blade was acting a little restless and as much as I like him, his wheels tickled.

"Jumbo jets are no longer needed, Proto." Flaps looked away. "But planes of our size can't just up and disappear. They have to go somewhere."

"Like where?"

"Into other planes. We're being recycled, you see. Recycled even though we're not dead."

"Why?"

Flaps winced and collapsed, her legs shattering from her weight. Her wheels were gone, like mine. "I don't have much longer, Proto. You're going to be stripped down, metal by metal, part by part."

"What?"

Blade spoke up. "Nothing."

"Okay."

The other jumbo seemed to laugh. She couldn't move much. "It's hopeless. The metal walls are thicker than all get out, and the floor is unbreakable concrete. All built underground, it's crazy. Your engine would shatter just thinking about how big these systems are."

I looked around the hangar, from the locked gate to the dark scary corners. The darkness seemed to go on and on. I picked up a piece of rock I found onto my wing and flung it into the back of the hangar. I heard the rock land on concrete. This was one big hangar.

"Can I get out?" Blade asked.

"Oh, yeah, sure." I opened up my nose again and Blade gratefully rolled out.

"Keep hidden," Flaps warned.

"Do we get fed?"

There was a lengthy silence. The hangar was a bit damp, and water was dropping from the ceiling onto the concrete floor. Sparks were crackling inside Flaps, while the sound of Blade investigating the back of the hangar comingled.

What a perfect setting for a song.

Flaps: _Hear that? That rotten sound?_

_That's where our food is found._

_Chomp, chomp, eat away!_

_I promise you… you'll be okay_.

A mean looking truck drove by and slid open the gate door only a little bit, slipping a bowl of oily something into the hangar. He grinned and drove away. I went up and sniffed the oil stuff and gagged.

Me: _I don't know what to think_

_Because this food really does stink._

_Is this what I am going to eat for now?_

_Bleck. Yuck. This is nasty plane chow._

Flaps: _Get used to that disgusting oil._

_It all you have to look forward to._

_You'll never get out of this little airport._

_It's a torture prison, of a sort._

Blade came back up and he interrupted Flaps.

Blade: _There's a way out if you look back_

_You can escape from this._

With a snorty sort of sniff, Flaps bucked up laughing. She knocked over the bowl of food.

Flaps: _There's way out except for up._

_And by that I mean your time._

_Listen to me, you helicopter…_

_Pretty soon you'll hit your limit_.

With that, Flaps waited at the door of the hangar. She seemed to expect something, and indeed, the truck returned and hooked himself up to Flaps. He led her out of the hangar and looked at me, laughing. Flaps seemed to accept whatever was going to happen.

"You coming back?" I asked.

Flaps snorted. "No. Not anytime soon. You can have my food."

"Thanks!"

Blade, who was hiding in the back of the hangar, sighed. "She's not coming back, Proto."

"Okay."

Happily, I went over to the bowl and started to drink the oil from it. It looked nasty, but I as hungry as a tractor, and nothing could stop me from chowing down. It didn't stay down.

"I doubt that oil had anything edible in it," Blade remarked. "We're in a prison."

"Okay."

"Get some sleep, Proto. We're gonna need rest if we're going to find a way out of this."

I did fall asleep. Sorta. Does watching Blade sleep count as me sleeping? I wasn't moving too much. Kinda like sleep.

Blade didn't sleep easy. Nope. His main rotor kept spinning several times and he was muttering something under his breath about a guy named Nick. Just Nick. His whole body was shaking and he just kept muttering. Finally, his eyes flashed open and he screamed. Just screamed.

That's when the crooked-tooth plane came up to the hangar gate. He looked us over and smiled a devious, bad-guy smile. Seeing him for the first time in some light, the bully plane was a sinister looking high-winged cargo plane.

"I didn't realize you brought a friend. Come along. We have a toy we want to introduce both of you to."

Blade, who had been glaring at the plane, crept forward before he rammed himself into the plane. He then turned to me, nearly tipping over because he span around so fast.

"Proto, to the back of the hangar! It leads out of here to a bigger cavern. We can fly out! Go!"

Confused, I asked, "What?"

"DRIVE TO THE BACK OF THE HANGAR AND KEEP GOING."

"But my wheels are off!"

"Force yourself!"

I sped forward, somewhat in pain because of a lack of wheels. When I looked back. Blade had rammed himself into the ugly cargo plane again before coming to join me. He was angry, focused on escaping.

"HURRY, PROTO!"

Going as fast as I could, my heart was pounding fuel through all of my body. Blade caught up, hovering. His head was lowered so he could go forward faster, but he never went ahead of me.

The sounds of trucks speeding along made me panic. Blade noticed me freeze up and he kept urging me on.

"We're way ahead. Keep going, we'll fly out of here. There's a big tunnel up ahead, probably part of a system."

"How do you know there's a way out?" I asked, crying. I didn't want to go on. I've never been chased before, never.

"I heard wind coming through the back of the hangar. If there's wind, then there is an entrance out. And judging from the wind, it should be big enough to get you out."

Finally, I noticed the howling of the wind. It was loud and the wind became even stronger, even strong enough to toss me around. Turning on some lights, I saw that there was a drop off. Just far enough away for me to get airborne, too.

When I began to lift off, I remembered something. I was missing an engine from my left wing. That was when I spun out of control and rolled. Blade unraveled the hook he had to try and get me back up, but I missed being able to grab at it. I didn't roll very far, though. Because I bumped into a big plane. That plane growled.

Blade was grounded, as well. He had been pulled down by his own hook after he had tried to help me back up.

"Sorry boys," the cargo plane said. His head was dented somewhat. "Your flight has been cancelled. You'll have to spend the night at the airport."


	8. Chapter 8: NotCHROME

"Hello, Blazin' Blade Ranger," the cargo plane said, his voice sarcastic. "How's old Nick? Oh yeah, he crashed. And you did everything you could to save him when you arrived at the scene… haha! You didn't do anything! You _couldn't _do anything. What do you do now? Fight fires?"

The room was dimly lighted. It was a different hangar, one where dust drifted on the floor. My face was filled with dust and I sneezed. Something was holding onto my tail; since I can't turn my head around, I just guessed that I was chained to something. Not to mention there was thick adhesive stuff on my mouth. Blade Ranger was also chained up by his tail. A thick piece of duct tape was over his mouth.

"Don't worry," the cargo plane mocked. "Don't worry. We never did get acquainted. My name is Bore. You are Proto Widebody, the little airplane that made headlines a few years ago. I won't bring that up, though. I'm more interested in the friend you brought with you. Blade Ranger, from my favorite television show. From what I've seen, Blade, you can no longer fight fires to the capacity you used to."

"Mmmf," Blade said. The duct tape prevented him from talking. He was angry, trying to get free and his main rotor was spinning as a blur.

"I guess that the new Piston Peak Project can include the elements of helicopters. You will be joining Proto in this little test. You two will be combined with two of our other friends. All four of you will be tested on what you can all accomplish together. After that, you will have restrictions placed on you. When all of these tests are done, all four of you will be free to go. If any of you fail this or prove that all four of you cannot work together, consider this airport to be the last one you land on… at least, in one piece." Bore grinned. He looked a little evil in the poor lighting.

I wanted to shout, "But you can't kill us!" but it came out as, "Mummm nyoo nieoot koo uff!"

Bore gave me a smile with those bad teeth. "Oh, but I can. And I will."

Blade was struggling to get loose from the binds, and Bore focused on him.

"Freeing ourselves, are we? This ain't no television show, helicopter. No scripts can save you. Nothing in life is scripted; I thought you learned that with Nick, and maybe as a firefighter. Apparently, you haven't."

This time, Blade stopped moving. He just hung from where his tail rotor was strapped, dangling in the air. Tears streamed down his nose and landed onto the concrete floor. _Plop_. _Plop_. _Plop_.

"You would throw yourself in front of someone, taking the oncoming blast. I think you did that recently, Blade. Your engine is worn out, and you are aging. Your cockpit isn't what it used to be. You saved a plane, once, I bet. Is that the only person you can save? Probably. Watch this jumbo jet go down like Nick. Watch him burn. Don't worry; you won't be haunted by that fact. You'll be disassembled."

Blade was still strung up. No words, no struggles, no nothing.

"Alright," Bore shouted. "Take these aircraft folk to the NotC.H.R.O.M.E." he ripped the duct tape from my mouth.

A blue car with a huge _handlebar _mustache drove up. "Hello. My name is Gill DeRocket. You two are to be joining my other two prisoners as we investigate what makes good airplane. We will be combining a custom manufactured plane, a helicopter, an old warplane, and our star of the show: a jumbo jet." He hooked me up to his hitch and began to drive but I refused to move.

"You can't make me," I said.

There came a huge pain from my tail, followed by Bore's laughing mock. "You want to lose all of your engines?"

"Whatever you say!" I followed Gill.

Gill laughed and he pulled Blade along as well. "Remember about NotC.H.R.O.M.E. these few facts. It is a simulation, yes, but make a mistake and you prove just how poorly you were manufactured. This is to test just how good you are and how much you, or at least certain parts of you, should be spared. I don't expect much, of course. After all, you are a poorly made jumbo."

"We prefer the term incompetent."

The duct tape was removed from Blade and he dropped down, landing on his skids. His eyes were closed and he was led, so quietly, and without a fight. I wanted to scream at him to at least say something, because if your mouth was duct taped that means that you aren't allowed to talk and you can't talk because your lips are stuck together but when the tape is removed that means you can talk and you might as well because there is no tape blocking your face.

Blade was quiet even when a huge helmet was fit over his head. I bit at Gill when the helmet was put over my face but the helmet locked into place. It was tightened and the sides of my head seemed to hurt. My cockpit was ringing.

"Every-plane must prove his worth," Gill whispered. He was on a forklift to be near my ear windows. "Prove me wrong, jumbo. Your kind is old news. Piston Peak Project… is the new horizon."

With that, my vision distorted and I saw an empty airfield. Blade was also there, his eyes still closed. There were abandoned hangars and a city stretching on forever in the distance. The city was on fire, smoke making the sky look like nighttime.

All four of my engines were back on, and I wasn't dented. Neither was Blade; he looked healthy. Well, healthier than he did when we were not in the simulation.

"Where are we?" I asked, but Blade didn't say anything.

He just sat there, looking at the horizon.

A voice boomed out over the empty airfield.

"WELCOME TO BLADE'S NIGHTMARE. PROVE YOUR AGILITY AND HOW YOU WORK TOGETHER. WE WANT TO SEE YOUR BEST EFFORT."

This time, Blade did say something. "Dreams are nothing, Proto. Let's find these other airplanes those vehicles were talking about. We're gonna need the help of every-plane we can get."

As soon as we took to the air, several dark colored helicopters approached us. They looked angry, their eyes red. I stalled and backed away, but Blade began to take off. He smiled and glanced at me. I felt encouraged and began to start up on the runway. Before long, I had taken off and the sheer force of my size sent the helicopters spinning away. Blade managed to hold on and he stayed right by my side.

We flew off, heading towards the city. The smoke was rising, helicopters and fighter jets lurked in the sky, and there were cars shrieking in the skyscrapers. Several helicopters looked at us, their sinister eyes giving us the stinky eye.

"Proto," he said, grinning. "If this is my nightmare, then your company is a dream come true."

"CAN YOU SURVIVE THE METROPOLIS?"


	9. Chapter 9: Bad Dream City

"I don't fly low over cities," I remarked.

Blade turned and looked at me. "You know how to fly in cities. Follow my lead. Jumbo jets can learn fast, they have many purposes."

A military helicopter with a red rotor and purple eyes laughed. "Who can escape me? I am an AH-1, and I can destroy anyone!" he opened fire at me, but Blade rammed into the helicopter knocking his aim off.

"The real test of a helicopter," Blade grunted, slamming the AH-1 into the side of a building. "is to determine if he can preserve more than he can destroy."

"In your line of business. I am Cobra Longbow!"

"And I am Blade Ranger. Next to me is Proto Widebody."

"Not next to you," I said. Several fighter jets were following me. "Kinda… to the… uh… this wing makes and "L" standing for right? I don't know… but definitely not next to you! Help!"

"Try to lose them in the buildings," Blade shouted. He pulled up next to me. "Here, I'll throw them off." He slowed down and used his signature hook to pull one jet away. Screaming, that jet slammed into the side of a building and blew up into thousands of tiny… pixels?

"They aren't real," I said, and I rolled over in the air. Hitting another one of the fighter planes, I watched as it blew into another bunch of pixels.

"They might be simulations," Cobra said, grinning. "but their missiles are very much real, I can assure you." He chuckled and began to shoot at me. I felt one of my engines stutter and… bark? There was some fire around it and I panicked, landing hard on the top of a skyscraper. I almost went over it, and had to pull back to not fall down.

Blade tried to pull Cobra Longbow into a skyscraper. Instead, the helicopter was much stronger than Blade and actually send Blade spinning. It took him awhile to get steady, but Blade was right back chasing after Cobra.

A car screamed from a skyscraper, dangling out of the window. She was only hanging on by a wheel, panicking and leaking oil.

"You better save that car, Blade," Cobra mocked. He flew back. "You told me you can save lives. What do you use to save the lives with?"

Blade wasn't sure. He looked over at the car and thought hard. When her grip was lost, the car went screaming, plunging to the street below. Without any hesitation, a hook shot out and grabbed her. Blade gently put her back into the skyscraper.

"Interesting," Cobra observed, and he flew right at the line connecting the hook. He got caught up in it and began to pull Blade with him.

"Proto, go and keep the other cars from falling. I'll deal with this renegade AH-1." With that, a wild, windy tango of back and forthing erupted between the two helicopters. Both were baring their teeth, concentrating on pulling the other one out. There came a loud snap and the hook was disconnected. It was send into the chaotic streets below.

"Blade, your hook!"

"I can't get it right now."

One of the jets snickered. "End of the line

Because I could not get the fighter jets off of my tail, I dived down and went for the hook. I barely fit through the buildings, feeling the fires of the city burn my face. Smoke came into my eyes and I choked on it. Worse than fertilizer.

One truck was driving around with the hook stuck on him. He saw me coming, his pupils shrank, and he went driving away.

"Wait!" I screamed, and the truck stopped dead in his tracks. "That hook… I need it!"

"Get away from me, you crazy jet!" the truck sped off, but couldn't get too far past the other cars blocking the street.

I landed, carefully, placing my wheels on the ground. Not on cars. My wings did go through several buildings, but I kept switching my weight back and forth. Though I did feel some stinging in the wings it didn't hurt too much and I maneuvered my landing so that my wings weren't stuck in buildings; instead, they stuck out into an intersection! Wow! Looking back, my wings had only grazed the road and the side of buildings when I had turned in my landing. Not much damage was made.

"Gimme that hook!" I shouted at the truck.

The truck turned around and dropped the hook. Then his eyes widened and he looked behind me and his jaw dropped to the ground.

A small car and his family were falling out of a building. Blade ditched Cobra and used his hook to catch the younger cars, but one was still hurdling down. He was screaming and shrieking. Thinking fast, I opened up a side door and let the inflatable slide out. Moving to the side, I made sure that the car landed on the slides. Some of his wheels came off, but he seemed to not be… a greasy splat… on the ground.

"You… saved my life," he remarked, and he struggled off. A few other cars helped him.

"Hooray for the plane! He saved the mayor!"

"Not yet. Us bad guys are still here."

Behind me was the sound of a loud helicopter. A helicopter with _two _main rotor blades. How can there be two main blades? That's… unconseeab…unconpossib…not thinkable!

"Stop where you are, jumbo jet," the helicopter demanded.

"I am stopped," I replied. I had my most innocent grin on my face.

The helicopter hovered in front of my face. "Wipe that smile off of your face. You're stuck here. No jumbo jet can possibly get out of here. Helimobsters, take care of the red helicopter and let's begin dismembering this airplane."

Blade, who was still in a fight in the air, finally slammed Cobra and sent the helicopter spinning into a building where a resulting explosion seemed to end that encounter. His hook came and latched onto the big helicopter and he seamlessly swung that one into the air.

"I'll be back, and you'll be taken apart and recycled alive!" the helicopter screamed at Blade, but he kept spinning and soon wasn't visible.

"Everybody," Blade announced. The crowd of panicked cars seemed to slow down. "We need to help this jumbo jet get back into the air. Hoist!"

Several forklifts went to the skyscrapers and descended down on strong ropes. They hooked me up and began to lift me. It took lots of them and Blade's constant encouraging to get me up. When I was finally at least sort of in the sky, the car I had saved drove up.

"You can use these skyscrapers as a runway," he said. "The buildings are so close together. Again, thank you for saving my life. That slide of yours… and the way you maneuvered… that was amazing. From here, keep flying until you reach the bay. Fly over the sea and you should be far enough away from this city so Cobra and the Helimobsters can't catch you."

"Thank you," I said, blushing. Taking off, I drove across the buildings and did a high tilt up. It was a little rough but I was soon joined by Blade.

On the horizon, there was a huge ship. Surrounding it were several odd-winged airplanes.

"What are those?" I asked.

"Corsairs," Blade replied. "Come on. I want to get out of this NotC.H.R.O.M.E. simulation or whatever it is."

The city disappeared. Now, there was only ocean to be seen. More airplanes collided in battle, several big ships were shooting and an angry looking corsair was flying right at us. His eyes were glistening with hate.

"Don't hurt me!" I said.

"You airplanes and your stupid project!" he roared. "You think you can get progress by showing me the past? I'll destroy you!"

Blade turned a little. "I recognize you… you're Skipper, the old plane that is friends with Dusty."

"And just what did you do to him?" Skipper asked. His machine guns were starting, the whirling grinding the air.

"I didn't do anything," Blade replied. "What are you talking about?"

"Dive, Proto, dive!"

Good thing I listened. Because I usually don't. Oh, and plenty of bullets struck the air where I had just been.

"Where do I go?" I shouted to Blade.

"Away from Skipper!"

The corsair, frustrated, cursed and went flying after me. "I won't die in this simulation without taking a few of you airplanes down with me!"

A squadron, led to their deaths, sobbed in the background. Their ghostly wails surrounded Skipper, and I flew… I flew for my life! (Because I don't have wheels and I can't drive for my life. Cars drive for their lives because they can't "run" in a way some-cars think.)


	10. Chapter 10: Skipper's Shame

"Dance… dance to the devil's piano!" Skipper fired several bullets at me, but I ducked down and only the top of me was hit, grazing the paint. It stung.

"Why are you shooting at us, Skipper?" Blade, who had reattached his hook, latched to the corsair's tail. "Watch out, Proto! Go up; the ships are shooting at you."

"Taxi up!"

Several corsairs came drifting up and began to shoot at me.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Ending all of you," Skipper replied. This time, he slammed himself into my tail, knocking the tip of it off. "The plan for new airplanes is becoming… an egg in my oil. Now, crash!"

"You have to stop this, Skipper! This is the past, and we aren't here to hurt you." Blade pulled Skipper down. "Think about your friends. I don't know you too much, but we can talk this out."

"You can talk this out with your friend… after you crash."

"What kind of planes are these?" I asked.

"I'm a corsair." Skipper was just staring, his eyes glistening with hate.

"Coarse hair? I didn't know planes had hair."

"Fly out of the way, Proto. Skipper doesn't know what he is doing!"

"Squadron," Skipper shouted, and several corsairs started to come our way. "You wanted to take down some enemy ships, but this time, you can shoot down your first airplanes. I will not let you down!"

"Sure thing!"

The odd thing I noticed about the airplanes was that they all had weird wings, kind of like a shortened V. Oh, and their eyes were glowing red.

"Shoot down the corsairs, except for Skipper," Blade commanded.

"I have no guns," I replied.

"Then use your weight to ram into them."

I flew around the airplanes. They were careful though, not coming to close; my presence made the air spin around me and they weren't coming near. It's like they were smart or something.

Something landed on my head, frightening me. My cockpit seemed to freeze before I began to scream and try to buck off whatever had landed on my head.

That was when I expelled a good amount of… fart air. Right out where the lavatories were drained. Because it was freezing, I tried to shut the lid but couldn't. However, the corsairs were falling one by one in the ocean, crashing and then turning into pixels.

Skipper saw this happening and he roared with anger. "You have a problem with rookies? How about you try to beat me?" he began to dive right at me, but Blade knocked into him.

"I'll keep him busy," Blade said, and he was head-butting with Skipper, each trying to force the other in one direction. "Take care of the other corsairs!"

Two corsairs saw me, and they grinned. Together, they span through the air and came right towards my face. I began to speed up, intent on slamming them with the force of my face. One bounced off of my hump, spinning through the air. I heard it turn into pixels. The other one kept going at high speed, shooting bullets and swearing like a sailor. Even though he was a corsair.

He rammed right into my nose, disintegrating into pixels, which went flying away. I shook myself and turned over, trying to get the hunks of metal out of my body but it didn't work. The bullets irritated my paint and my metal. The air inside of me was going crazy, but I lowered myself in altitude.

"Don't do this, Skipper," Blade urged.

Skipper said a word that sounded like "fluff" but I'm pretty sure it wasn't "fluff" because the fs became a little more like a k. "You shot down Dusty, you take my squadron away from me again…."

"We're not part of BoeWing! We're stuck in this simulation as well!"

"Graaah!" with his propeller, Skipper dug into Blade's nose. He was winning the fight, would have continued to chop into Blade if I hadn't dropped in altitude.

"Skipper!" I called.

"What?" he asked. With a growl he made Blade go spinning in the air, trying to regain his balance.

"Please! Don't shoot me!"

Too late. The bullets dug into my metal again, barely missing my eyes. Looking closely at Skipper, I could see that his eyes were flooded with tears. His lower lip was trembling. In all, he looked old and kinda… uh… kinda sad. He was dented and injured from fighting with Blade, but he didn't seem like he was going to give up any time soon.

Then I felt something on my side weighing me down. I tried to shake it off, but it wouldn't come off. Using my mirrors, I saw something coming out from that lavatory lid. Of course, I had tried to close it after my fart air… thanks for flying with flatulence airlines. ANYWAYS, I also realized that there was a huge ball of blue ice forming and it was _really _weighing me down. In fact, it hurt and it was cold.

Shaking, I felt the ice kind of become loose but it didn't give. Something rammed me from underneath and I saw Skipper trying bruise me. And the blue ball of poopoo ice was looking kind of heavy and not holding on well.

"Skipper, stop it!" I called.

"Never! This is for the Jolly Wrenches! Volo. Pro. Veritas!"

One final ram and I felt the poopoo ice go flying.

"Whuh?" Skipper grunted when he was hit by the blue ice. It was so heavy he couldn't escape from underneath it and he was sent straight into the ocean where there was an extraordinary fire and the biggest, hugest splash I had ever heard.

There was deathly silence. Like someone had really farted. Or died. Looking down at where Skipper had gone under, I panicked. I just killed Dusty's mentor. Oh poop. Literally. Ironic, kind of.

Blade, who had been recovering in the air, came down and looked frantically into the water. His hook was sent into the water, weighted down slightly.

A large aircraft carrier was approaching. It was too big to be real, but then again I remembered we were in a simulation! I could land on it, though it was a hard stop on the breaks. While I sat there, I saw Blade hopelessly hovering above the water. He looked at me, his hook still under, and he closed his eyes. I felt a sense of dread; Skipper was gone. No-plane could easily escape poopoo ice.

Then something jerked Blade and he tipped and rolled in the air. He balanced, thankfully, and then stressed and pulled until a very beaten-up looking weird-winged airplane came up. It was Skipper, his metal badly burned and his eyes were closed. His propeller was only moving slightly, but it was because of a breeze.

Gently, he was lowered onto the ground. Blade called for help, but the carrier didn't answer. Something looked weird about it; it lacked a mouth and eyes. No was no-plane onboard except for me and Skipper and Blade.

"This carrier gives me the creeps," Blade commented.

"I don't think it's alive. Can you imagine planes and boats and cars without faces? Eerie." I nudged Skipper, and he rolled over. He looked kinda dead.

"Proto!"

"Sorry." I nudged Skipper again. "You still alive, buddy?"

Skipper lay still for what seemed like forever. Finally, he twitched a little and he was choking.

"Lightly put your wheel on his undercarriage," Blade said.

"I'll squish him!"

"He's choking! Just do it! His cockpit is being deprived of air!"

_Whud_. Skipper jolted and threw up oceany salty watery water onto the deck of the carrier. He rolled back upright and looked at us. His eyes were again filled with tears and I heard his machine guns whirling again, but they cracked and fell off. No ammo spilled out.

"My whole squadron…."

"What about them?" I asked, trying to cheer him up.

Skipper was giving up. He didn't have any fight left in him anymore. He was kinda droopy.

"I failed them, again."

"You didn't fail anyone," I replied. "You didn't die!"

"If only I had crashed."

Blade rolled up. "Skipper, sir, this is a simulation. You… we've all been tricked. And we have to work together to get out of this. We are your squadron, now."

"I lost my squadron a second time."

"They were simulations with no brains or nothing. They were all fake," I replied. Blade gave me a dirty look. "Oh, sorry."

Skipper looked away. "I… well, you're right. This simulation got me. This was my nightmare. Tell me, is Dusty okay?"

"Nowhere near here," Blade replied. He smiled. "But if he was here, we'd be in it deep."

Laughing for the first time, Skipper looked at me. "But we do have this soldier. Proto?"

"Planeyesplanewhatisitplane?"

"No need for that." Was Skipper's response. "I owe you… I owe you a lot. I'm sorry for the damage I did."

"Doesn't matter."

"It does. We have another plane to find here in the simulation. I don't know where he is, except for south of here. I don't know who it is. He came in on another jumbo jet… Flaps. Is she….?" Skipper looked at both of us. "Or do I know the answer?"

Blade frowned. "I'm afraid you do."

"Who is this plane?" I asked.

"Not sure," Skipper replied. "But see that storm to the south? We have to fly that way. He's there, I'll bet my propeller on that."

"Then there is no time to waste," Blade said. "Let's fly."

I took off first. It was weird because the carrier was so unvehicularly large. When I was ahead, the other two took off. Skipper approached me.

"Proto?" he said.

"What?" I asked.

"Thank you."


	11. Chapter 11: Arid Skies

Flying over the ocean, looking to the south. The air got drier and hotter, so hot that my tongue seemed to be nothing but dust and sand.

"I'm so thirsty," I commented. "Can I get a drink from the water?"

Blade sighed. "No. It would only make you thirstier. Remember when you landed in the lake? You might not get out of the ocean."

"We'll be near land soon," Skipper said. "I have some oil cans in storage. Just hold on."

"Okay," I replied, but that didn't help the fact that my tongue was flapping in the breeze. "For a simulation, this thirst sure is thirsty."

"When we get out," Skipper remarked. "Some-plane is going to have a sore prop."

"I can imagine your pain," Blade replied. "This simulation is cruel."

Finally we came across a desert. Large rocks reached towards the sky, like jagged pieces of metal. The skies were blue, a dry blue color. If blue can be dry. Blue is the color of water, but this blue was certainly dry. Dryer than water. Too bad we were in a desert; I turned to see the ocean but it was gone, having vanished. This simulation sure was real. Real enough for a simulation with dry blue colors and still blue is the color of water. By that time, my cockpit ached so I didn't think anymore.

"Arid skies," Blade commented. "Let's land and get set up for the night. It'll get cold."

"I'll look around," Skipper suggested. He flew off.

A few oil cans were dropped and hit the ground. I thanked Skipper and decided to just eat the cans instead of prying them open and drinking.

"Spare one or two," Blade said, but I had already eaten all of the cans. "Or not. Skipper and I will handle this."

I spat up one can that I hadn't crunched. "You can have this one."

Blade cringed. "Thanks."

With another one coughed up, I said, "And this one is for Skipper."

A shadow appeared, and I looked up. While I thought I was going to see Skipper returning, I saw the ugly red eyes of a helicopter that seemed familiar. He was hovering and his missiles were aimed not at me, but at Blade.

"Hello," he said.

Blade's eyes narrowed and he glared. "You're Cobra. Didn't I slam you into a building?"

"Yes. Of course you did. Sad thing is… I'm real. Metal and hydraulic fluids. The whole thing. Oh, and I should remind you. These missiles are real as well."

"And so are these bullets!" Skipper came diving in, and he blasted Cobra away.

"You'll be scattered throughout this desert if I have anything to say about it!" Cobra focused on Skipper, and he launched one missile. However, Cobra had forgotten about Blade and by the time the missile was loose, he was pulled down to the ground with a slam.

"Woah!" Skipper said, dodging the missile, but just barely. The missile went flying and hit a large rock where it exploded. The rock was gone, pieces of it raining down.

Cobra was on the ground, his rotor no longer running. "You will all die with this simulation!" he spat on Blade.

Wiping the spit away, Blade was face-to-face with the helicopter. "What do you know about this simulation?"

"Humph. Only that every jumbo who comes in here will be recycled for the new project." With a weak smile, Cobra looked at me. "Proto. You've been lucky. You're a great sample." He began to start his rotor and took off.

Blade gasped. "No. Don't!"

"You can't make me land, old helicopter," Cobra hissed.

"The tail rotor… it's damaged!"

Yup. Skipper had totally ripped apart the tail rotor of the AH-1. Cobra didn't notice it until he had started into a fatal tail spin.

"Cobra!" Blade took off and tried to send his hook towards Cobra, but the helicopter refused to take it. Something exploded in Cobra's engine and he went flying, screaming and cursing, hitting a rock and there was a huge explosion.

By the time Blade navigated his way to the rock, dodging the debris, he saw nothing but a burned out piece of metal. Cobra's eyes were closed, his rotor slowly spinning. Smoke poured from everywhere.

I approached Blade, but Skipper told me to stay back.

"You crashed," Blade said.

Cobra's formerly sinister voice was cracked and broken. Metal hit against metal. "You were right. My rotor didn't work. And I was a fool to try and fly away. Don't be fools; fly south, or you will crash."

Rocking a little, Cobra finally just seemed to go completely still. The rotor was done spinning and it toppled off. Cobra didn't move anymore and I knew that his engine was no longer working.

"Let's move," Blade said, pulling out. "Nothing we can do for this helicopter anymore."

"Did he just stop working?" I asked, but I already knew the answer. "We're just gonna leave him here?"

Blade, his voice a little more stern, repeated, "Let's move."

Skipper added, "Sometimes, we just can't do anything."

Flinching, Blade closed his eyes in agreement. "Yes. Sometimes we can't do anything."

When we were in the air, Skipper lowered his wing as we circled Cobra's shattered form. Blade also lowered, and when I tried, I nearly stopped flying.

"Several miles out, I saw a little oasis. It's also near a rocky alcove." Skipper flew ahead. "I can see it. It's just out there. Prepare to land."

"I can't land in sand," I commented.

"You just took off from sand," Blade replied.

"My wheels hurt."

"Be steady as you land. The sand is in a thin layer atop hard rocks. I think this desert used to be an ocean." Skipper began to lower in altitude.

"Well, where's the water?" I asked.

"It was an ocean. It isn't anymore," Blade explained. "You can see the red stone beneath. It should be a good runway for you."

It took me awhile and about ten minutes of circling before I decided to finally land. When I did, I saw the oasis and there were palm trees and other desert stuff. The only thing missing was… wait. I saw it. A coconut!

"I'll get a fire started," Blade said.

"It'll be cold at night," Skipper replied. "I still have some oil cans stored if you're thirsty."

"Can I do anything?" I asked.

Both turned and said, "Just take a break."

So I went and poked around. The trees were too thick for me to go in and the oasis water was kinda sandy and didn't really taste like bottled water for some reason. After playing in the water for a bit I got bored. (I was only splashing my front wheels in it; my head is too far up to lower into the water. It was pretty shallow.)

Then something shiny green caught my attention. Remembering the metal piece I had left behind in the real world, I decided that I would go and taste the green shiny thing. I tried my best to lower myself to grasp the metal in my mouth. When I did, I bit down and began to pull it out.

"Hey, hey! Stop it, man!"

"Agh! Talking metal!" I rolled backed and my back wheels fell into a hole. Struggling, I got back up but my wheels did hurt.

"There's dust in my throat!" someone called from in the hole.

"Oh dude, is that you?" the talking piece of green metal said. He had escaped my mouth and was backing away. It was a green EA-300, tiny and a little… mad.

Another plane, the same type, emerged from the hole. He looked a lot alike, but his colors were kind of opposite from his friend's, more of a white with green lining.

"I nearly died in there!" the white green plane said.

The green white plane replied, "This huge plane bit me."

"I'm Proto Widebody," I replied. "What are your names?"

The green white one said, "I'm Ned."

"Zed. Who do you think you are?" the white one with green wings scowled. He rolled up next to his friend and looked at me.

"I just said." I backed up, careful to avoid hitting the planes.

"We have more important things to do. Wait… oh dude, dude! Where's our boss?" Zed's eyes opened wide and he looked at Ned.

"What? I thought you were with him. I haven't seen him since… since that jumbo was brought into that cell." Ned thought for a moment. He was biting his lips.

"We gotta find him," Zed said.

Blade, who just came in, asked, "Who are these planes?"

"Ned and Zed," the two replied in unison. "Or… the Twin Turbos! Haha!" they did a high-wing and were chuckling.

Skipper sighed as he approached. "I guess we'll need every-plane's help. Is Ripslinger here?"

Ned and Zed began to scuffle with each other.

"I thought you were with him, dude!"

"No, you were!"

"He's gonna kill you!"

"Not if he kills you first."

And so on.

"We need to find this other plane," Blade remarked. "He could be anywhere in this car-forsaken desert."

"Oh dude, do you think he might… dead?" Ned sounded nervous.

"Of course not, don't think of such a thing." Blade looked a little grim.

"We'll look in the morning. I doubt any-plane could go too far in this desert." Skipper gave out a few more oil cans and some fuel. Ned and Zed attacked the cans and oil went flying everywhere.

Looking at the two small airplanes, they were covered in dust and a little dented. Ned's prop was a little crooked and Zed seemed to be really tired. They fell asleep after drinking the oil and snored.

"Can I have some fuel?" I asked.

Skipper laughed. "No. You have plenty. Here, Blade, load up."


	12. Chapter 12: Green Tornado

"Did you see Ripslinger when you came into the desert?" Blade asked.

"Ned did."

"Nuh-uh. Zed did."

"You calling me a liar, dude?"

"You're the liar. I just wanna find Ripslinger before he fires our tails off."

Ned and Zed argued with each other until Skipper broke in.

"Stop arguing. When the soldiers argued before going off to bomb the munitions factories, they operated poorly and lost two rookies. They had to work hard to make that mission a success, but that doesn't make up for the rookies that were lost." Skipper flew in between the arguing planes. "Don't argue and we will find Ripslinger in one piece."

"If he's still alive," Zed chimed.

"Keep flying. We'll need every-plane to look if we're going to rescue Ripslinger." Blade lowered in altitude, looking around. "I don't see anything right now, nor am I picking up any radio signals."

"Do you have radar?" I asked. "I got rid of mine."

"No," Ned and Zed replied at the same time.

"Let's spread out," Skipper suggested. "I'll fly westward."

"Zed, come with me," Blade commanded, and they flew off.

"So I'm stuck with the jumbo?" Ned complained.

"I'll jumbo up your tailpipe," I replied.

We flew in silence. Looking over the land, I tried seeing something shiny. Nothing appeared so I just kept flying.

"Wait, do you see that?" Ned began to land.

He landed right next to a pile of metal. With a panicked look, he began to dig up the sand and was floundering around by the time I landed.

"I got you, boss! I got you! Don't give up on me, man!" Ned pulled up several pieces and flung them toward me. "Wait… jumbo, we can totally put him back together!"

Working together, we tried to stack the metal pieces together. Okay… that one goes there… that looks like a wing so it must be the tail… the prop has to go on the butt… mmmm, don't worry, we got this! Okay, okay… I think he's sticking together. Looks good.

Then the metal fell apart.

"AAAUGH!" Ned and I screamed together.

"What are you idiots screaming about?" another plane asked, approaching. He was a serious looking airplane, colored dark green.

Ned, who was sobbing, looked and said, "We tried putting you back together, but you fell apart and now you're dead and I am so, so sorry."

"If you have some duct tape or glue or staples we can try and put you back together," I said.

The airplane knocked over the metal we were working on. "There."

"Oh no! You killed Ripslinger! We were trying our hardest to put you back together, dude."

Confused, I asked, "Did Ripslinger just kill himself?"

"Yeah. He totally destroyed him when we were trying to put him together." By this time, Ned was a dribbling mess.

"It's a permanent landing for a temporary flight," I said.

"I'm not dead." The green airplane was growing impatient.

"But you just killed yourself when we were trying to put you together…." Ned wailed. "Waaaugh!"

"Ugh. I'm Ripslinger! Can't you low-fliers see that?"

Ned and I were still shaking.

The sound of a helicopter made me look up. I smiled and exclaimed, "Blade!" then my smile turned into a frown and my lips were trembling and I began to just BAWL. "We tried to put Ripslinger together and then he came and destroyed him and then we failed."

It took the whack of a hook across my face to make me finally see what had happened. "Oh! You're Ripslinger! And that metal wasn't you?"

"Of course it wasn't. Are you dumb?"

"Are you sure it wasn't you?"

"Pretty positive. Oh," He turned to look at Skipper, who had just landed. "I recognize you. You're that old plane that messed with me."

Skipper sighed. "We're in this deep."

"You got into this deep when you messed with my race."

"You have to understand. We're in a simulation."

Snorting, Ripslinger replied, "Of course we are. I know it. They put me into this desert so I can race all I want, and the competition can't beat me. Like that hunk of metal over there, that you idiots thought was me."

Ned, who had stopped crying, went right next to Ripslinger. Zed did the same thing.

"That jumbo jet thought that you were the piece of metal," Ned said, and he laughed at me.

I began to protest, but Zed interrupted. He was saying, "Don't talk to Ripslinger. He's too important."

"We need to get going," Blade said. "We have to escape this simulation if we have any hope of getting out of here alive."

"Why should I leave?" Ripslinger demanded, glaring. "You can't tell me what to do."

The skies overhead grew dark, foreboding. Winds started to blow, knocking the smaller planes around. Skipper was struggling to stay still, but eventually the wind became too much and he was blown away. Ned and Zed had dug into the ground and were cowering, while Ripslinger was fighting against the wind, his sheer speed and power preventing him from moving.

Blade had taken shelter at my side, but even with my weight, I was struggling to keep from tipping over.

"Skipper!" Blade called, but by that time, the old corsair was out of sight. "We have to get him." Blade took off, and went after Skipper.

Ripslinger, Ned and Zed watched as Blade went flying to the center of the storm.

"Let them go," Ripslinger said.

"I'm not going to," I replied, and I took off. The wind slapped me and getting off the ground hurt and my cockpit felt like there was nothing but buzzing balsa wood gliders in there. Looking to where Skipper had blown away to and where Blade had pursued, I saw something forming in the clouds.

It was… a green tornado!


	13. Chapter 13: Turbulence

**NOTICE: This chapter is a little darker than the others.**

"You aren't going to help us?" I asked.

Ripslinger grinned, "You got this."

Ned and Zed whispered to each other, but I couldn't quite hear what they said.

So that's why I headed into the storm. It felt as though something were tearing my wings off, something hitting my windows and smashing into my head. I still had several dents, and the wind whistled as they passed over.

An object came swinging into my eyes. I fell back and began to spiral towards the ground. Something appeared, something big. It was another jumbo jet, an older model than me. He was flying straight at me. Through the dark, swirling clouds I could see his green eyes. On the side, it was painted with familiar colors.

A voice came screaming through and I tried to open my mouth to reply, but instead the wind came through my mouth, down my throat and was just horrible feeling. Many years ago, a voice through the wind would call. Through the fog of my memory I could see that familiar face, that jumbo jet that I recognized but didn't want to.

From somewhere deep inside, a smaller jumbo jet cried out, "Daddy!"

Storms surging. A tempest from time. Time tempest tearing through. Remember that night. Where's Dad? When is Dad coming home? Daddy? Dada? Da? A truck that fights fires and a few thousand flags. Flags marking where he had landed. Here. There. Please. Don't mark right there. He can't be there as well.

Burned out shell. Soulless, no longer running.

"Where's my dad?"

"In the sky."

"But…."

"Not these skies."

No answer for that.

Then, the jumbo that I saw coming right at me, crashed. We collided and I felt myself fall apart. Everything vanished in the biggest fire. That crash… ended….

Metal came screaming off, peeling from the heat. Paint melted and dripped.

I tried to brake, I really tried… but I broke apart. In three pieces, all smoldered and smoking. I couldn't see, no, not in all of this smoke.

"B…Blade!" I screamed, trying my hardest to look for him. The only thing I could see was my shattered body. In the distance, I heard the wind howling. Someone was screaming, and then a face appeared. The face was that of the airplane with the bad teeth. He was looking at me, and then laughed an ugly laugh.

"Try getting out of this nightmare now, Proto! Hahaha!"

I felt a little desolate, and my eyes filled with tears.

"Looks like you met your match here, jumbo jet. Don't worry. You'll be remade with the spirit of a helicopter, the grit of a corsair, the speed of a racer and, not to mention, the strength and size of a jumbo jet. Prepare to be reborn… but not as a 747. Something better than what you are. You are useless!"

"I'm not useless. My dad told me that every jumbo has a use."

"You mean the dad that crashed?"

Again the memories came around and there was a lonely jumbo jet. A jumbo jet without a father. I watched as the plane's face disappeared. All that was left was a jumbo jet with a broken heart and a broken past. There was no use for a jumbo jet when there could be better things. Born with a use, but what to do when that use runs out?

My broken body fell, falling through the air and heating up. My tears streaked through the sky and I fell before my tears did. When my body crashed, tears fell like raindrops. Sizzling against the heated metal. A broken jumbo jet. Tears vanishing in the heat and a soul with no use. The jumbo jets were being replaced and there was nothing I could do. He was right… he was right. A jumbo jet is meant to work, meant to soar the skies. If they could no longer do that… the scrapyards awaited with open arms, ready to receive and destroy.

Lying on my back, I couldn't see the sky. How could I? Why would I? There was nothing for me to do. Lightning crackled in the sky and thunder shook the earth. No-plane could escape this. Around me, I could hear planes pleading, crying, and sobbing that was louder than any storm. A nightmare is everything I fear, in my mind, and I cannot escape it.

"No! No!"

I was not screaming.

"Mommy?"

I was not seeking.

"Make it stop!"

I was not pleading.

Three other voices mingled in a chorus of suffering, of wailing. My voice joined in, into the quartet of pain. Four aircraft, stranded in a desert. A tornado made of green absorbing our voices and expelling our greatest fears.

The plane with bent wings was screaming in restless agony. The modified plane was crying out for his parents. The helicopter was making bargains that would never be.

And I could not get the vision of that broken jumbo jet out of my cockpit. The smoldering heat of my memories… it washed down my body and I could not move.

"Help," I whispered.

Around me, three other aircraft were struggling.

And the tornado raged on.

**_Here's a shout-out to my fans! Your feedback is appreciated! Thank you for your support, and remember, the sky is the limit!_**

**_I'll be taking a little break with school coming up. It's a busy week ahead of me, and Proto has some important duties to do over at Piston Peak before he can continue telling me his story. Trust me, it's hard arranging interviews with him. His attention span is... yeah._**


	14. Chapter 14: Blade's Crash

Struggling through the wind, I couldn't see straight. My windows were coated with dust and my paint was peeling or completely caked with yuck. When I tried to say something, it was as though nothing came out. The howling wind kept me from saying anything.

Wanting to say something, I kept trying to shout, to scream, to do anything that would make me heard. However, my voice was again lost in the howling winds. The currents kept buffering my beautiful jumbo face.

Forcing myself to move, I went forward and looked around. I saw Skipper roll over and he was muttering something to himself.

"Skipper?" I nudged him.

"I just had the worst nightmare," he replied. "I was back in the war and everything."

"I dreamed I saw my dad again," I remarked. "He died."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Skipper said. "How long ago?"

"When I was a small jumbo jet. Let's not talk about it."

Skipper rocked slightly. "Can you flip me over?"

"Sure."

"Boss?" Ned, who had _avoided _the storm, had flown in.

Zed followed. "What happened to you guys?"

"Well, I just happened to rescue these airplanes," Ripslinger said. Skipper gave him an interesting look.

"But I wasn't the one screaming about his mom," Skipper remarked.

"And I don't suffer from PTSD." Ripslinger turned to face his two loyal minions. "Let's get going."

"Where's Blade?" I asked.

"Let's look for him," Skipper replied. He got airborne but I didn't follow him.

"I don't want to fly," was my explanation.

"I'll look ahead, then. You should get some rest, Proto. You don't look so well."

Ripslinger looked ahead. "I'll be keeping watch. Let it not be said that Ripslinger was not a plane of action and humility."

Ned snorted, but got whacked on the head by Ripslinger's wing.

"Heh," Zed laughed, but Ned then whacked him.

The constant sound of planes whacking each other with their wings kept me from being able to sleep. Oh wait, I'm feeling a little tired… zzzzzzzzzz.

Ahead of me was a pile of metal. It sat on a runway and smoke rose from it. I taxied over and looked at it, but the smoke was so hot that I had to pull away. It was a little baby jumbo jumbo. Sleeping like the dead. Dead and sleeping. That 747 was up in plane heaven. Look. Crash. Skybird who couldn't fly and what a way to crash and die.

Something rose from the plane and it was a shadowy blob. The eyes were piercing blue and just stared straight into my very airplane soul. My cockpit ached and I was trembling.

"Who are you?"

"I'll tell you later," replied the shadow.

The sound of a propeller interrupted. I bit at the little fly that was buzzing around my face and then was shaken awake when I realized that the plane's wing was stuck in my mouth.

"Please let go," Skipper said. I released my toothy plane grip and Skipper tumbled.

"Did you find Blade?" I asked.

"Follow me," Skipper replied. "You'll need to carry him the rest of the way back, though. He crashed pretty badly during the storm."

I followed the corsair though the air and everywhere because that's how I like to say coarse hair. Finally, maybe a mile away, I saw a dark spot on the sand.

"There he is," Skipper commented.

"Blade!" I circled a little before finding a place to land. When I approached, however, I noticed that there was a wicked cloud of smoke curling from the broken helicopter, laying on his side with his main rotor slightly moving in a little breeze.

My smile faded, but Blade's smile grew.

"Blade?" I asked. My lower lip was trembling.

"It'll buffer out." Blade closed his eyes. "Proto, I originally meant for our trip together to be one about accepting things are the way they are."

"And then it turned into a horrible scene of death and jumbo genocide."

"When you get out of the simulation, I want you to think about something."

"Thinking makes my cockpit hurt. Let's go."

There was a single teardrop. "You were screaming about your dad. How he crashed."

"Don't talk about it." I felt my voice grow cold. I was very sensitive about being insensitive to emotions. "Hurry up, Blade."

"Secrets can't be kept forever."

"Like what?"

"That I'm dying."

No he wasn't. He looked fine. Blade was going to be fine.

"You're just giving up?" I asked.

Blade winced.

"You fought a fire after crashing in the woods, and now you're giving up? I thought you wanted to save lives, not _ruin _them. Great Cessna, suck it up and fly." I was growing impatient.

"During our time together, I realized something."

"That you're a quitter?" angry tears were streaming and I was shaking with anger.

"That you're like Dusty. You're a good plane, Proto. There are fires for you to fight."

"At least I don't quit."

This caused Blade to close his eyes. "Proto…."

"I thought you were like a dad to me, but you just had to crash. Everyone crashes. What gives?" I continued to rant.

"Proto… I view you like a son."

"Some dad you are, going and crashing like that." I turned around, but then I heard an engine snap, whine, and finally fade out. When I looked at Blade, he had gone still and his eyes were closed. One last tear streamed down.

"Blade?"

The helicopter didn't move. His engine had stopped working, and Blade was gone. Blade had perished, and even his strong spirit was broken.

"Blade?"

_When you fight fire after fire_.

"Blade!?"

_With no choice but to fly higher_.

A phantom whirlwind.

_This journey must eventually end_.

No. No. No!

_And I have decided to finally land_.

Fly and be free.


	15. Chapter 15: Launched

_**We're leaving Proto's point of view for a very special chapter. Prepare to enter… Blade's mind! Okay. I admit it. When I was talking with Proto, when he told me how Blade crashed, I saw Blade getting a cup of oil and asked Proto what had really happened. Blade was kind enough to chat with me, and it was amazing…**_

Don't deny it. You're dead. Your engine is broken and you can't move a rotor or anything. Rotor is rotor backwards. Have you ever realized that? Amazing what you realize when you're dead.

But when you're deceased, can you even think? Wouldn't you go to that place in the clouds? Heh. Proto's head is always in the clouds. But not the clouds where I am going.

Good kid. He seemed a little bitter when my engine was sputtering out but who could blame him? Next time I see him I'll have to apologize.

Next time I see him.

Will I see Proto? That's… not for me to decide.

Ahead of me is an airport and I'm ready to land. When I touch the ground, my first question is, "Am I dead?" Several cars look at me, confused and they chirp their alarms.

"You aren't dead," a car said.

"But you could use some fixing up," commented another.

"You came shooting out of nowhere," added a police car. "We saw this explosion to the east of here and then something, we guess it was probably you, came flying through the air and you only got your rotor working just in time."

"Wait, what?"

"Someone launched you. You should be careful."

My eyes widened with surprise. "Where am I?"

"Radiator Springs," a rusty old tow truck said.

"I'm still in the simulation, aren't I?"

"Sim...simu...what now? Naw, you came shootin' clear outta the desert and landed here."

It was clear. I was no longer in the simulation. I was free, but Proto was still in NotC.H.R.O.M.E.


	16. Chapter 16: Bladiator Springs

"Radiator Springs?"

"Home of Lightning McQueen," the tow truck said. He had rust all over him, and his main feature were those large buck teeth that he had. "Do you know the famous racecar?"

With a grunt, I stabilized myself. "I just crashed here and came flying from this secret agency and everything like that."

"You're funny. I like you. I'm Mater, like ta-mater but without the ta."

"Hey man, you need to get those dents fixed?" A purple lowrider car with flames on his sides approached.

"Or do you need somethin' to drink?" A light green car asked.

"I just need to rest."

"Why din't you say so? Follow me," Mater said, driving off.

Rolling forward, I followed him and we came over to an old metal shed. "You can stay here," Mater said. "This shed belonged to ol' Doc 'fore he passed."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. Just watch out for yer roommate. He's car-azy. Heheh. Car-azy." Mater backed up and drove away. "G'night!"

"It's early morning," I called back, but there was no reply. Who cared that it was morning? I was tired and all of my hull ached.

The light green car that had asked if I was thirsty stopped by. She dropped off a tray of several oil cans. "Need anything else?"

"Just some rest," was my reply.

"Okay. Your roommate will be back here soon."

"Who?"

"You're sharing the shed with another car. He's here for vacation."

Before I could protest about sharing the shed, she left. Slightly shrugging, I took a sip from one of the cans. Oil had never tasted so good. After finishing the drink, I looked around the shed and glanced at the dusty windows and dirty floor. Not much difference from some of the sheds at Piston Peak; I could get used to this easy, slow-paced town.

The only thing that worried me was the fact that Proto was still back at that facility. He's a good plane, even if a bit slow. Not at quick as Dusty, but just as dependable. Plus he was with excellent company and Skipper would know what to do. The only thing I could do at the moment was recover and wait before confronting the evil planes at the BoeWing secret base. Perhaps I could get some of these cars here to assist. That Mater fellow seemed like a good truck, but he probably didn't have any experience in fighting. I would have to speak with him later….

"Who are you?" a car, who I presumed to be my roommate, was standing at the entrance of the garage. Because the garage was dark and outside it was bright, I couldn't really see his features. His voice was gruff. It was a muscle car, a bluish color with a dark stripe down the front of his hood.

"Blade Ranger."

"You're a wreck."

"Something wrong with the way I look?"

The car laughed. "What if there is? Keep quiet, helicopter."

"I'm tired. We can talk later. I just want to rest."

He wasn't about to let me have some peace and quiet. "Get out of this shed."

"You have a problem?" I was a little alarmed by the car's attitude.

"Yeah, well, I've been through more than you."

What was his problem? It was like he… just wanted to pick a fight and was bitter about something.

"Is that a challenge? Keep quiet."

"I recognize you. Now that you mentioned your name, you were in that show… CHoPS. You're a faker, a fake policeman who does fake things for false glory. Now me, I'm a spy, a fighter, and a guy who doesn't like posers."

"Don't heat your hood," I replied.

"Oh really?"

I heard a click sound, and the car had a pistol aimed right at my side.


	17. Spare the Rod Spoil the Chopper

"What are you doing?" I demanded, looking at him.

"I'm asking for you to leave the building," was his sharp, gruff reply. "I'm in no mood to play games with a poser."

Leaning to the side, I activated the light switch and the shed lights turned on. The bulb swung loosely and was knocked aside by the blue car. His eyes were an intense, dark blue. Seeing him more clearly, I could tell that his hood didn't have a black stripe, instead the stripes were along his doors. What had appeared as stripes were the raised decorations on the hood that so many muscle cars come decorated with. What occurred to me was that the car was shaking slightly, but nothing made me think he wouldn't shoot the pistol.

"Are you trying to pick a fight?" I asked. "I'm in no mood. I've been through quite a lot the past few days."

"I've been waiting for this for quite a while."

Without warning, I felt several sharp pangs in my side. The bullets tore into my metal, causing the paint to tear off. Wincing, I slid to the back of the shed. Looking at the car, I asked, "Who are you? Why are you doing this?"

"Rod Redline. But you'll be calling me 'Torque'." He rammed right at me. My side door was torn open and he grabbed my hook with his mouth. He backed out of the garage and went into reverse at full speed so I was jerked out of the shed. What he didn't count on was the fact that I began to reel the hook back in. What I didn't count on was that he went full speed and immediately hit my front.

Swirlies appeared and there were lights brighter than the hottest of forest fires. I was no longer in Radiator Springs and Rod was not in front of me. Instead, the skyscrapers of a large city appeared and I saw a familiar looking helicopter go flying by. We were on a show set, and the studio looked so familiar. Cameras were focused on us, and a director looked at me. I was situated on a helipad.

"We're ready to begin filming for the season finale." The car looked to the cameramen, then to the little Robinson helicopter. "Begin with opening scene. Nick, get ready to do your signature loop. I only want to film this once."

"On it," Nick replied. "Don't you think it's a little windy to do this?"

"The wind is going only at 25 knots; no good for novices, but it should be nothing for you." My response was out before I could stop myself. It was a dream; it was a flashback; it was a memory of a time from long ago. Before my paint was changed, before I cared more for other planes, and in a time when I thought money and fame were the only things that mattered.

I watched as the little helicopter began the signature loop. It began smooth, but right in the middle of the loop, when the dive would begin, the helicopter caught some crosswinds. He was thrown around a little and then all lift was lost; the only way to go was down.

Everything froze in time, except for that helicopter in his fatal dive. I lifted myself from the ground and hurried over. No one else was there. A broken main rotor was only spinning slightly. Hydraulic fluid flowed onto the ground.

"…Nick? Come on, buddy. Get up."

"I love flying. But I'm terrified of one thing."

"What's that, Nick?"

"Crashing."

The eyes glazed over and any sound of life was gone. The engine had stopped running, and I was left near the broken hull of my best friend. Around me, sirens were screaming and cars rushed to the scene. What could their staring do? They must have thought that just by looking, Nick might come back. He wouldn't. And I would never meet another helicopter like him. He never hated anyone. He never had any hate in his whole body. A high flyer who loved his job.

And he was gone.


	18. Chapter 18: Fixin' to Fight

(I'm going to clear up some possible confusion. Since the chapter "Launched", Blade Ranger is _out _of the simulation, having been launched over to Radiator Springs, and the story is also temporarily in Blade's point of view. We'll be switching back over to Proto next chapter, but when I interviewed Blade he had plenty to say about his experience in Radiator Springs.)

"You okay, man?"

"I'm okay," was my reply. I was regaining my vision though it was rather slow. I'm getting old so my sight isn't as good. I turned to face the low riding car who… had a different paint color?

"Yeah, I change my paint whenever I feel like it." He was digging through an assortment of tools before turning to face me. "Rod didn't do too much damage, did he? I fixed up some dents and repainted a little bit of your hull."

"Thank you," I replied.

"Head on over to Flo's for a quart or two. Tell her I sent you; it'll be on me."

"Huh," was my response and I left the paint shop. When I arrived at the gas station, several cars were sitting out and just relaxing in the shade. It was pretty hot outside so I went under the shade a bit, but I was a little bigger than a car; it was a tighter squeeze.

"Did you watch the movie about those Lego cars?" a small sedan asked a truck.

"I only watched it for that Irish car."

"Who doesn't love Liam Nissan? His engine sounds _amazing_."

Actors. They pretend to save lives. (Admittedly, Liam Nissan is a pretty good actor, but not as good as Jet Harris. Now _that's _a good actor.) The door of the café opened and the blue car drove out. The car, who is named Flo, came out of the building carrying several quarts of oil. Someone nudged me so I looked over.

"You're that helicopter that was launched here from the desert," an old fashioned cop car said. "I'm Sheriff."

Several bright colored cars came zooming by, all of them laughing. Sheriff turned his siren on and went chasing after them, shouting, "Not in my town you don't!"

"Here's a quart on the house," Flo said. "It's hot outside; we don't want someone like you to get any hotter than you already are."

Unsure if I was to take this as a compliment, I just accepted the quart. "Thanks."

Mater came over and just parked right next to me. His presence made me a little uncomfortable but I didn't say anything.

"I once rode in a helicopter," Mater said, leaning slightly. "It was blue."

"Oh," was my reply.

"Yup."

"I bet that helicopter had one heck of a time flying you around." I bit my lower lip with sarcasm.

"Sure did. Said that was one heck of a ride he hadn't had in quite some time."

"Look, I need to worry about getting my friend out of the desert."

"Well shoot, why didn't you just say?" Mater perked up. "Let's go help him right now."

"It'll take some work," I replied. "He's not just broken down."

"Say, that reminds me of when several lemon cars captured me and everythin'."

"Yes. My friend was captured and taken to a… a prison of some sort."

"Then I guess you'll need a spy," a gruff voice said. Rod pulled up. "I can infiltrate."

"The prison is located somewhere in the desert."

Sheriff, who had returned, looked interested. "I've seen some cars go speeding past in the night. They don't just zoom through town; they cut through the dirt."

A green military jeep approached. "Looks like you boys will need some military gear. Can I interest you in anything? The name's Sarge."

An old hippie bus parked nearby. "I knew it was a conspiracy, man. They're replacing every single jet and making mish-mash ones in their place. It's being kept a secret."

Sarge snorted. "Keep that crazy conspiracy nonsense to yourself, tree-hugger."

"Hmm, have any of you bothered to check the radars? They show an odd cavern in the ground… other than that I can't detect much more. They're using some sort of jamming device." Rod was reading some sort of tablet on the ground. "Check it out. It's crazy."

I looked over. "So it that some sort of spy gadget?"

"I'll be able to infiltrate easy. I just have to readjust my disguise settings to…" he focused a little and I heard a loud clicking sound. Before I knew it the outer metal of Rod split and shaped itself into that of a very small airplane, a light glider.

"Woah, man," the hippie bus said.

"I'll be able to infiltrate. When I'm in, I'll get the prisoners out. From the radar I can tell that there are several openings in the roof of the cavern; be in wait for the next week or so. When you see a firework explode and it is red, that means I need help. If it is green, then I'm okay. Be expecting red, though." Rod backed up and then went speeding through the dirt, a dust devil trail following him.

"That was rather quick," Sheriff commented.

"In the case that we'll have to fight our way to rescue your friends," Sarge commented. "I have several items we can use to arm ourselves with. It'll be a bit tough outfitting you, fella."

Several of us followed Sarge into his surplus shop. In front of us there were several large military objects. We were trying on several different goggles and weapons. I put on a heat seeking pair and everything lit up.

"You look like a fighter," Sarge commented.

"That's just who I am."

"You must really care for this friend of yours."

I slipped on a light fabric outfit. It fit nicely and was dark grey. There was a pinching on my side and when I looked Sarge had outfitted a small pistol.

"No thanks," I said. "I got a hoist."

Metal was clanging and vehicles were fitting on several different military items. Sarge was pulling around a large missile. He grinned.

"Just a precaution. Big things that blow up always help."

"Windlifter would offer some good insight."

"I say anything works."

Who would have thought it? Windlifter was busy perusing the military sunglasses.

"Proto is your friend. He is like Coyote to the planes, he has brought light. We will fight and bring him back. He is trapped with his friends in the simulation. We must help."

"Then let's prepare. Huh." There was a string in the jacket I had slipped on; pulling it with my mouth, I felt the jacket change.

"Nice coat," Windlifter said.

Looking in a mirror, I noticed that the fabric had turned a bright pink with white flowers.

"I see you've noticed the Seductress Slip."

…I swear to Chrysler my paint turned redder than before….


	19. Chapter 19: Stall!

(I humbly invite you back to Proto's point of view. He is still in the simulation.)

"Blade is… gone," I said. His shattered hull had disappeared in a blast of pixels.

"I'm sorry, Proto," Skipper replied. He nudged me, but I had already turned around.

Hot tears were steaming down my nose and I just rolled off. "There's nothing for me to do now," I said. "I just gotta… I just gotta fly." I took off and went flying.

"Proto!"

"I just gotta fly."

"You'll get hurt out there!"

Jumbo jet get hurt. Don't matter no more. Just gotta go and soar. No-plane could describe my pain. Poor, poor Blade; he could've been saved. Just… gotta… fly. I also want apple pie. What… what is wrong here? It is so cold in the simulation. They could have added in some heating. Heating would've made the beating a little more easing easier.

"I want to leave this place," Ripslinger said. He pulled up beside me. "Come on Proto. We're finding a way out."

"Get away from me," I replied, pulling power a little. I began to drop in altitude.

Ned and Zed, who were behind us, were arguing.

"Why do we have to wait for the jumbo jet?"

"I don't know."

"Hey boss, why are we waiting for the jumbo jet?"

"Maybe it's because he's our ticket out."

"That is the most _ridiculous _idea I have ever heard from you, Ned."

"It could be true."

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is not.

"Is too."

"Is not."

"HOLY SNOT."

"Hey, that's not an argument."

"No. HOLY SNOT."

Ripslinger was a little peeved. "Be quiet, you two."

"Uh, boss, something is kinda following us."

The roar of a large jet became deafening. It was approaching really fast so I began to track it on my radar. The thing was probably my size or a little bit larger. I could hear Skipper trying to radio in, but there was no response from the strange jet.

"Who are you?"

Only crackling static. The large jet was tailing along. I couldn't really see what it looked like, but when Ned and Zed screamed I could tell it was pretty bad. The two were struggling to get past each other and they came even up to my side.

"Hide us!"

"What?"

Skipper radioed in. "Proto. This strange jet is getting too close; it's not responding to any of my contacts. I have a bad feeling about this jet. Can you open up your nose and let the four of us in?"

Ripslinger snorted. "I don't need any help."

There came a large explosion and the force of it pushed me forward and shook everything. There was major turbulence and it took a lot of my willpower to stabilize again. I almost rolled on my wing and my cockpit was dizzy.

"Let me in!" Ripslinger demanded.

"One second," I said. "I'm going to begin a descent to around two thousand. You can board when I pull power."

"Be careful, Proto," Skipper warned. "The wind and pressure will be really tough."

I began a descent and went my altimeter read around two thousand, I opened up the front of my nose and the wind came swirling in. All four planes rushed in and hurried to the back. It tickled and I closed the large door. That was when I felt the sharpest pain on my tail. A piece of the tip of my tail went flying. My radar showed that the mysterious jet was right behind me. It was on my tail. That was why part of it went flying.

"Proto, can you outrun the jet?"

"I… I don't know."

"No use heading to the ground. We can't outrun him there. Ascend to your maximum height and still keep ascending." Skipper's voice reassured me, except for one thing.

"I'll fall apart if I go too high."

"This is only a simulation. I predict that if you keep going high you'll bug the program and we'll be awake again."

Ripslinger whined, "I want my mommy."

This was when I began a rapid descent up. A voice in my cockpit began to repeat over and over again the word, "Stall."

"Stall."

I kept pulling up.

"Stall."

My speed was increasing and my metal got hot.

"Stall."

The sky got increasingly… pixel-ier.

"Stall!"

The strange jet was pushing right behind me and it was speeding up as well. It was struggling to pull up, though, and I could tell that it was stalling as well.

"Increase your power, keep pulling up!" Skipper said.

My cockpit got a little dizzy, my metal was scorching, and there was a crack. A horrifying crack. But it didn't come from me.

I had just broken the sound barrier.


	20. Chapter 20: Dark Jet

"This. Is. AMAZING!" my whole body was just rattling and rattling. I couldn't help it. I was going past the speed of sound. Fire blazed around me and I began to shake. It was an airquake! My nose was beginning to peel. It hurt.

"I think something is happening," Ned commented.

Skipper replied with a sarcastic tone, "Noooo. What makes you think that?"

"That's what you can when you separate a plane at birth," Ripslinger sighed.

Finally, the large jet that had been following me radioed in. The voice was loud, commanding and very, very assertive. "Your fuel tank is mine."

"Keep pushing against the edge," Skipper urged. "You'll break the simulation."

"I think… I think I'm breaking apart!"

There came a loud static boom, and I was torn free from whatever had been holding me down. There came a shout, a scream, and the sound of my engines. All of this was in close proximity. With a deep snicker, the plane began a short little song.

_Don't you know this is what you get_

_When you are born as a… jumbo jet._

_There are more than 747 ways to die_

_No matter how royal you are in the sky._

_Your glory days are way over, no going back_

_To the time when you were just all that._

The jet behind stopped his singing. This time, I was getting a little angry at that little song. I decided to reply back in kind with my own song, but it had been awhile since I had sung and well… we can all thank Ned and Zed for supplying the backup vocals.

_Four engines are all I need_

_Built for transportation, not for speed._

_Gotta love myself, gotta fly higher_

_Than the plane who could only conspire…_

_About the destruction of a jumbo jet. (_Accents on the J's for full effect!)

(Backup: Ain't no-plane gonna stop him now! Wo-o-o-ah, Proto!)

The sound of radio static made me bite my lips and slightly fart. Hey! What can I say? Jumbo jets can get scared, too! My engines sputtered and smoke blew out from every which way. I began to fall backwards in a long descent. The sky was getting father away, and that meant the ground would be getting closer.

"Balance yourself," Skipper said.

Friction caused my wings to hurt. I could barely move because of the searing pain. I tried to double back and catch my balance but it didn't work; I slightly rolled in the air and one engine blew off. My eyes widened with panic and I could feel the tears in my eyes.

Ned and Zed were screaming bloody Fokker while Ripslinger tried to bust out and escape. Skipper held his cool, but I could tell his was giving up. I had let them all down… and now they were going to go down with me. We were going to crash and all of us would perish.

My only thought was about my daddy. A BoeWing 747, an earlier model; he met my mom at a hangar dance celebrating another BoeWing success. That dance led to several cups of oil and then a baby jumbo jet.

Dad crashed in a storm. We were flying

When

He

Fell

And I could only scream because

I

Was

A

Coward.

I'm a fool. I'm a jumbo jet with barely any friends and no life whatsoever. I got fired at the only thing I was good at, and surprise… I was built just for the thing I was good at. Now I'm no longer employed. There's… there's nowhere for a plane like me to go.

I'm too big.

Jumbo means big, right?

Keep descending, Proto. Keep waiting for the ground to meet you. It is excited to get to know you. You'll go everywhere once you hit it off with the ground. Big explosion of excitement and you are everywhere. Wing tip over there, cockpit pieces here, just everywhere! The ground can't keep its dirty little dirt pieces off of you.

Proto doesn't want to crash.

So I steadied myself. It hurt and another engine blew up. My face was blackened from the smoke and debris. But I balanced myself. Jumbo jets don't fall like bricks. They can soar. They can slowly descend. They can…

_CRASH_.

Dark jet. Dead yet?

_No one escapes from me, Proto_.

I… I refuse to give up! I can fly! I can soar!

_You will crash, and nothing more_.

I am entering a fire, and the fire melts my paint. My metal gets so hot that it begins to peel and melt and it hurts like nothing I have ever felt before. There is nothing to relieve the pain, nothing at all. Windows shadow, cabins depressurize. Tears are flowing from my jumbo jet eyes.

Is it still a simulation? It doesn't feel like it. How can a simulation be so real? It's like a game, right? Except if I lose, I don't ever come back. I want to come back. I want to fly for airlines, I want to live in a hangar and be a little lonely some nights, because during the day I'll have plenty of company. There are always planes who are flying. I want to fly, too.

Third engine flies off.

My passengers are running around inside. It kind of tickles, but it also depresses me for some reason. Then I heard it.

Fourth engine. Gone. Whoosh.

A fire engulfs me and I can't see anything through the smoke.

Sooty tears.

What… what is that?

Ice stares back at me. Cold eyes, cold ice eyes that are an icy blue.

The inferno around me is nothing like the blazin' hope that stirs inside of me. It lifts me up and I can see a familiar face with icy ice blue icy ice eyes.

"Stay with me, partner."

Plummeting.

But I am smiling.

And break free.


End file.
